Forever Love
by Emma-face
Summary: Skye's thoughts after being shot in T.R.A.C.K.S


_On the ground, with my world upside down, I got a vision of your face,_

_And I must get me out / for so many memories we've yet to make._

_God don't send to me your angels / I just want to hear you say again,_

_Forever love, say you'll love_

_Tell me so I can hold you in my soul / If I go I'll know _

_(Digame)_

Your brain hardly has time to process the sound of the gunshot before it registers the pain of the bullet tearing through your gut. It's a sharp, searing pain the radiates outwards from the entry wound. You feel a warm, wet sensation on your skin as blood begins to trickle from it, running down your stomach as Quinn steps forward, the gun still pointed at you. You think he says something but the words don't even enter your brain because your insides are burning with pain and you're going into shock. The second bullet rips through you, knocking what little air that was in your lungs out of you. You're lowered to the ground as the agony wrecks your body; you can taste blood in your mouth. You figure you must still be alive because you feel so much pain, surely being dead wouldn't hurt so much. Your heart must still be beating, even if it is only serving to pump blood out of your wounds. You feel it spilling over your stomach and onto the floor of this dirty little room. How many more times will it beat before it gives up?

There's only one thing on your mind as you lie there awaiting death and that's Jemma. It doesn't seem fair that this is happening when you've only just found out that she feels the same way about you as you do her, only just begun to find out what life is like with her by your side and there are so many more experiences you want, no need, to have with her. You need to tell her you love her because, even though you have felt it for a while, you haven't dared to say it out loud yet. You want to live with her somewhere that's just yours and hers, where there was room for a bigger bed, somewhere that's not a flying workplace. You have so many places you want to take her, so many things you want to show her. You want to grow old with her, to be sitting by her side when you're both old and grey watching your grandkids play in the garden, or your dogs if you don't have children. You're not ready to give up on having all that. Not yet, not if you can help it. So you will your heart to keep beating, even if it means prolonging the excruciating pain, you need it to keep beating. You need it to keep you alive for long enough for the team to find you. And you know they will find you eventually. You need to stay alive for her.

You think about her to distract you from the gaping wounds in your torso. You think about that gorgeous smile that reduces you to a gawping moron, and all the different variations of that smile  
>that you've noticed and how you can tell them all apart. She doesn't show her teeth when it's a forced smile. It's bright and cheerful when she's talking to her friends and family. The slightly smug one when she figures something out in the lab. The cheeky grin when she's teasing Fitz or you. Your favourite Jemma Simmons is the one she reserves for you; that beaming smile that lights up her whole face. You think about her eyes and the way they light up when she laughs; you love making her laugh. You think about how they dim slightly when she's tired and how they narrow when she's focusing particularly hard on something, giving her complete tunnel vision. You love how they darken after the two of you have been kissing for a few hours. You try to recreate their wonderfully unique colour in your minds eyes; the layers of honey gold, the streaks of amber and the flecks of brown. You know you would never get tired of looking into those eyes. You savour every memory you have of her luscious lips being pressed against yours. You focus on the way she makes you feel so completely at peace with her presence, how she makes you feel that you belong, that you're special somehow; it's a feeling you had never experienced before her.<p>

It's getting harder and harder to breathe and things are starting to go fuzzy around the edges. You're certain you're going to blackout soon but you will your weakening heart to keep up it's fight, reminding it that its fighting for Jemma. You wish more than anything she was there with you right now. You long to feel her soft and oh so soothing touch on your skin, to hear that glorious, lyrical voice tell you that everything will be ok; because you know if anyone can fix this it's her. You wish you'd been brave enough to tell her how you feel, that this isn't just casual dating to you, that it's so much more than that. If this is it and you really are dying, your dying wish would be to have the chance to tell Jemma that you love her more than anything, more than you ever would have believed possible. You feel yourself slipping out of consciousness, falling into a darkness that you don't know if you'll ever return from. You hope against the odds that your heart can hold out for just a little bit longer, that someone will find you soon, but you know there's only a small chance of that. As you fall unconscious, taking what might very well be your last breath, your last thoughts are of Jemma Simmons.


End file.
